Emo Cat Cuts Himself

[darkelf105]

Um, so this morning was fucking insane. I woke up to my dad calling for my cat, Artemis. I was tempted to roll back over and go back to sleep, except than I remembered that there is literally no wall in the downstairs bathroom and that there is a hole that leads directly outside*. So I hurried out of the house shaking a treat box** and proceeded to reassure myself that no, the stupid cat did not exit via the missing wall in the bathroom as the tarp my dad had duct taped up to keep out raccoons*** was still there and intact. So I went back in and that's when I noticed that there was a shit ton of blood spatter and spray by the steps. We are talking blood like one sees in a CSI episode, no joke. So needless to say, I start shaking because now I'm scared to death for my dumb ass cat because I totally knew it was his blood. I followed the blood smears downstairs to the basement and was really starting to freak out because there was a little pool of blood down there and I'm thinking, shit, what the hell happened. Did the other animals attack him? Is he dead? I am I gonna find my buddy kitty's body down here, because if I do, at this point I'm so sick to my stomach I'm gonna throw up. Well, needless to say, by the tone of this entry you can tell the cat wasn't dead. I almost walked right past him, but he mewed piteously from the back of the cupboard he'd holed himself in. So I dragged him out, he's covered in blood. I'm still shaking, I don't really want to look at him because I don't want to know how bad it is. Well, at this point I look at his tail and it looks pretty freaking messed up, but I'm scared to touch it because my Artie is a big boy and you try holding onto a 17 pound mountain lion when he's scared and hurt. So I took him upstairs and set him on the kitchen table where he just sat and shook. I called my boss in tears, called the fiance because I was in no shape to drive, and then called the vet. I got an appointment for ten o'clock. It's 8:23.**** So I stew...and I think and I think some more about what could have happened. At this point me and my dad are looking at all the blood stains all over the house. My dad thinks the cat caught his tail on a piece of metal that is sticking out of the wall at the end of the stairs. I think not, no fur stuck in it and no blood on it. He also thinks maybe the cat's done poisoned himself because he's been acting like a lunatic for the last few weeks and that this may be his death throes. I should prepare myself says he. But I begin to think it might be something else because I know my damn cat. I know that my cat has napped in an automatic fireplace, that he licks light sockets, that the one time he really escaped from the house, he laid in the middle of the road and chilled. In short, I know my cat is emo....and I also know there is a little, tiny new kitty in the house that no one except me particularly likes and that there are reasons, oh, there are reasons that her nickname is La Diabla.*****

So eventually, we get him to the vet...I am not even going to get into the antics that ensued there. Needless to say, I have pictures of poor Art in one of those cone collars. Long and short of it, the little kitten is literally driving my cat insane. He has developed a nervous twitch that he takes out on his tail as a way of dealing with the stress. If he doesn't stop, they will have to amputate his tail******. So, my poor Artemis is an emo kid and he cuts himself for attention. Apparently it is called Self-Mutilating Syndrome or something like that and is more common than you think because apparently most cats are batshit insane to begin with and it only takes a little to push them over the edge. ::sigh:: When he's better and I stop feeling like I'm gonna burst into tears at any second, I'm going to strangle him.

I set him up in Heather's old bedroom because the vet suggested either that I lock Chachi away from Artemis or I lock Artemis away from Chachi....I settled for making her bedroom into Fort Artie******* and gave him his own clean litter box which he doesn't have to share, his own water dish which he doesn't have to share, and his own food, which he doesn't have to share. Not to mention that he has the guest bed all to himself as well as my favorite pillow********. He is content to be the only cat in Fort Artie and has taking to glaring at me when I come to check on him because I am obviously bothering him as he blissfully works on becoming one with the bed. ::sigh::








*My father is recently retired. Which means he is slowly losing his mind. A symptom of his illness is a propensity to "fix up" the house, by which he means vital things like walls and ceilings will disappear to never be replaced.
**Artemis+treat=great success, usually. In fact, that is also the mathematical formula for the speed that Artie travels. Well, of course you have to divide it distance traveled from couch multiplied by effort on his part, but whatever.
***My father has delusions as to the reality of how big a raccoon and strong a determined raccoon really is. He really is convinced that a tarp will stop them. I know better as the garbage cans are outside my window.
****For any of you that know me well, you know that this is an impossibly early time for me to be not only awake but coherent and capable of making rational decisions. Needless to say, I didn't really wake up till about twelve, when I paid the vet 114.00 dollars for the bill.
*****La Diabla's latest escapade involves yanking a hanging light from its fixture in the ceiling. Cute as a button, though.
******Over my dead body will they amputate my cat's tail. So the vet suggested gently that he might need anxiety medications. At this point I started laughing because I was tired and emotionally drained and the thought of anxiety medication for cats was fucking hilarious and ridiculous...needless to say, if Artie needs 'em, I'll pay for the drugs. No matter how ridiculous that sounds.
*******He has not left Fort Artie all day. He is ridiculously content to be the only cat, even if it's only in one room. I'm still finding blood spatter all over the freaking house.
********Artemis is a jerk face and must either destroy or commandeer that which I love. He's my buddy kitty and I love him.

Comments

[guinlet.livejournal.com]

POOR POOOR BEBBINS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :( I hope he feels like his own self soon. Does he like catnip? Does he like toys? Whatta beebs!


Also, the blood spatter reminded me....
One day, we came home and found a little spot of blood on the floor... Followed by blood on the walls, in the bathroom, in the kitchen (on the table, radiator, window ledge, chairs, fridge, toaster, wine rack, rugs...), in the main room on the desk, window ledge, bed and blankets, cat tower, TV stand, and the closet... Well, we had clothing mountain at the time, and the purse I carry around still has blood stains on it. And it was on a bunch of clothes and the dresser and the window ledge in there and on the wall. And we thoroughly examined both cats and there was nothing wrong. Nobody was bleeding, no sensitivity in any certain area, nothing. WTF WTF WTF.

[darkelf105.livejournal.com]

He seems to be a bit better. When I found him that morning he had the "Oh crap, I really screwed up" face that he gets when he's gotten himself into a lot of trouble. I'm really, really hoping that he's learned his lesson.

Blood everywhere....that is too freaky. I'd be freaked out. Maybe one of the cats got a rodent? That's just kinda scary.

[whittywhitwhit.livejournal.com]

wow sorry about your cat! I understand about the emo animal act. We had dog named munchie and every time we would open the door he would run outside and sit in the middle of the street. Also, He would not move if cars came. Our neighbors would come tell us to get our dog out of the street all the time. One day he had gotten out without anyone knowing, he was hit and now there is no more munchie. It was sad day. Not to say your cat is going to kill itself. Maybe if we had anxiety medicine then he would still be alive today. ( i find anxiety medicine for animals hilarious!)

[darkelf105.livejournal.com]

Aw, that's so sad! I think Artemis is going to be okay. He was kinda demented to start out with, so this isn't as horrible as it could be, I'm just kinda hoping that he scared himself so badly he'll stop.

[woodburner.livejournal.com]

"A symptom of his illness is a propensity to "fix up" the house, by which he means vital things like walls and ceilings will disappear to never be replaced."

O god, I lolled. XD;

I am glad your cat is (mostly) okay though... Man, I'd've lost it if I'd found the blood.

[darkelf105.livejournal.com]

My father manages to simultaneously amuse, irritate and exasperate me. He's one of my favorite people. Recently, all the best short stories I've written are based off of my father's antics.

Artie seems like he will be okay. Like I told the vet, he's always been two fries short of a happy meal, so in retrospect, this shouldn't have surprised me.

I am not going to lie, the blood all over the house was scary as hell.